All Chapters of FAKE MATE, REAL BOND: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Gina.Second Thoughts. I walk to the sitting room, my whole body still restless. I find my mother sitting outside her suite, perched on the edge of a velvet chair like she’s ready to bolt at any moment. Her hands are folded in her lap, but her fingers keep twitching, betraying the storm she won’t let me see.She looks up the second I step in. “You alright, baby?”I hesitate in the doorway, then cross the room and sink into the chair across from hers. I don’t answer right away.Because I’m not alright.But she seems to be okay than I had thought she would be. She looked relaxed which is really rare for her. I can't remember the last time I saw her this relaxed, like at all. “I thought I would feel free,” I say finally, my voice low. “After leaving Brandon’s pack. After coming here.”She nods slowly, waiting.“I thought being away from him, being anywhere else would be enough. But this place…” I trail off, staring at the silk curtains and gold framed paintings on the wall. “This plac

GinaThe Cycle Never EndsI didn’t sleep. How could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ryan's hand on her waist, her smug smirk, the way he didn’t even try to stop her. The way he looked at me when I caught him… like I was the one interrupting something I had no right to. And I officially had no right to, he had been very clear about the rules of our agreement, but I thought things were going to change with time. I never expected him to start disrespecting me so soon. The sunrise creeps in like a cruel joke, painting the sky in golds and pinks as if something beautiful is supposed to begin.But all I feel is hollow. My head is heavy from the lack of sleep and my eyes are a little puffy from all the crying. This was so fresh start. I had traded hell holes. Like the old Gina, Brandon’s omega has come crawling back out of the darkness I thought I’d buried her in.I curl tighter beneath the blanket, trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything. That it’s none of my business. T

Rose.Ghosts at the TableIt’s him. Damian, the Alpha of Bloodfang.My mate. My tormentor. The man I had ran away from my whole life. My daughter’s grandfather.My legs lock in place the moment I see him standing at the head of the grand dining table, dressed like power itself tall, silver haired, cold eyed. Time has aged him, but not enough. Not enough to erase the man I remember. The man whose voice once sent shivers through my bones not from longing, but fear.And now here I am, face to. face with him again.After twenty one years.I feel Gina beside me, her hand lightly brushing mine. She doesn’t know. She can’t know. And she must never find out the truth. “Rose,” Damian says, and my name on his tongue feels like poison.My stomach coils at the sound of his voice, his voice saying my name. My wolf, long subdued from years of submission, stirs inside me, restless and angry. She remembers. Every scar. Every lie. Every night spent weeping in the dark after he walked away and left

Alpha DamianShe walks in just after Ryan.At first, I didn't think anything of her. She's dressed elegantly, too elegant for an omega. Her shoulders are squared, posture careful, but there's a tension in her eyes that catches mine immediately. A flicker of something I can’t place.Familiar. Dangerous. Her eyes remind me of someone, someone I can't quite place. Then Rose walks in behind her.And the past slams into me like a blade through the ribs.I stand there stunned for a few seconds , my pulse thundering. Rose. It was like I was seeing a ghost. Twenty one years.Twenty-one years since I last saw her, since I ordered her to be sent away, hidden, silenced. I thought she was dead. I told myself she was dead. It was easier that way. Cleaner. That was what the council needed. What the pack needed.Not scandal. Not weakness Not a secret omega mate. And certainly not a child.And that is what she was going to be if she had continued staying in the pack. But now she’s here alive, old

RyanI didn’t know what to expect, I had been gone for over two days now with no communication with anyone including Gina and I know she is pissed. But I had to come home at some point. The door creaked open as I stepped inside, the faint echo bouncing off the marble floor like a taunt. The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The kind that made your gut twist. The kind that screamed something was wrong even when everything looked normal on the surface.Of course something was wrong, I had not been home for over twenty four hours and I can't expect to come back to sunshine and roses. I closed the door behind me, slowly, scanning the grand foyer out of habit. No sight of Gina curled up on the chaise by the window, no scent of chamomile tea or that wildflower shampoo she used. Just stillness and the cold realization that something was missing.Her. Where was she? I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it onto the console table, trying to convince myself I was overreacti